Failing In Love
by evenflo78
Summary: Love doesn't come easily for everyone. Especially if you're not looking for it. In fact, it can often take you by surprise and leave you scrambling to catch up. AH/AU Canon and non canon pairings.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Yes, I am starting another story. And yes, I know I probably shouldn't seeing as how it takes me forever to update the one I have going already. But, as you've probably learned by now – if you've followed me for long – I just can't seem to help myself.**

**Special thanks to EtheHunter. She is my I before E except after C. I love her and adore her, and would most likely be a mess without her.**

**Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. I'm simply privileged (or crazy) enough to play with them.**

**Failing in Love**

**Prologue**

**SPOV**

I'd never been one of those women that was on a hunt for love. Maybe that was where I'd went wrong. Maybe if I had looked, or at least dated on a serious level slightly more than rarely, I would have been prepared for what was to come when it hits. Because that is exactly what it does.

It hits.

Like lightening, it hits you hard and fast. It doesn't float in on the wings of a butterfly, or with angelic songs from the heavens. Love snares you in its arms when you've got your back turned and you're looking the opposite direction. Like a crack in the sidewalk, making you stumble and skin your knees, it catches you off guard.

Some people are more adept at dealing with those sorts of things. I was not. In fact, I found it really difficult to imagine how a person could be. But, I supposed that, if you'd had a few close calls with love, you'd be able to spot the warning signs before being blindsided by it.

I could hardly call myself a victim though. I'd had experience with men, with boys, just none of which had involved my heart. Or maybe there had been some level of disconnect on my part, or theirs, in all my previous relationships. Whatever the case, I was nowhere near prepared for love when it struck me. I wasn't armed with a clue on how to handle a single blow when it swept me away into insanity.

I guess I'd been foolish enough to think, when the time came, I'd know what to do instinctively. Like maybe love was a second nature, it would fit me like a glove. It had always seemed that way for everyone else.

I'd never been more wrong.

Gran and Pappy – before he passed – had made it seem so easy. Being in love and breathing went hand in hand for them. Even after losing their kids – our parents – and they took Jason and I in, I often caught them dancing in the living room, or cuddling on the couch. They made love look beautiful and simple.

I was foolish to think I'd be good at it too, like it was genetic or something.

Pfft, yeah right!

One of the many lessons I learned along the way was that there's an assortment when it comes to types of love. That, for me, had been one of the hardest to learn and accept. Not to mention the most painful.

There's love like the kid you feel for your brother or sister, and a love like what you feel for your parents or grandparents. There are also many other levels of love, but only one that shadows and eclipses all others.

The one I'm talking about though, the love that is all-consuming and life changing. The kind of love that has the capability to rip you open and turn you inside out, or leave you feeling breathless and light as a feather.

It's the kind of love you would die for. _Kill_ for.

You've heard talk of this kind of love. I know I had, and it was nothing like I suspected. But it's the kind of love that we all search for, but very few of us actually succeed in finding. It will stop your heart, restart it, only to make it beat to a whole different tune. One that has a rhythm only for a single person, a single soul.

Some people call it falling in love, but I call it failing.

Because that is exactly what I did, and this is my story.

**A/N: Alright, so it's a little short, but it is a prologue. And I've already started working on edits for the next chapter. I do hope you enjoy, because I'm pretty excited about it.**

**Please take the time to press the button below and leave your thoughts. You know how I love them all. Thanks in advance.**

**MUAWWWW!**


	2. Meet and Greet

**A/N: Woo-hoo for another chapter. I'm feeling so very accomplished today. Thank you so very much for the huge response to the intro. I'm so glad you guys are excited about the new story. **

**Special thanks to EtheHunter. She is amazing, and I love her fiercely. **

**Disclaimer: Sometimes I get tired of typing it, but I don't own the characters.**

**Failing in Love**

**Chapter 1**

**SPOV**

My mood was a horrible, nasty thing that was quickly and surely growing horns as I made my way home. I needed chocolate stat! Or coffee? Or maybe I'd split the difference and put chocolate in my coffee. Best of both worlds. I smiled to myself as I turned to radio up.

It was only late May, but the afternoons had already gotten pretty hot. The a/c in my car barely worked, so I had the window down to assist in circulation. I loved the feel of the wind lifting and flipping my hair as I drove.

I pulled into the dirt driveway of my Gran's and coasted over to the side of the house where everyone parked. Clancy, our new neighbor, was standing on a ladder in front of the house, half hanging off the eaves. I kept telling Gran I was going to clean those stupid gutters.

"Guess she got tired of waiting on you," Clancy greeted, as if somehow reading my thoughts. I swear that man hated me.

I scowled at him, rolling my eyes, but didn't say anything as I made my way into the house, hollering for Gran as I did.

I found her in the kitchen, of course. "I told you I would clean the gutters, Gran."

"Yeah, well, you're busy, baby. I know you'd rather do other things on your days off. 'Sides, Clancy needed the work, and he don't mind, not a bit. How was your day?"

I sighed. Gran never, ever let me argue about a thing. Or maybe I just had some sort of aversion to doing it. She was my Gran after all.

"Okay, I suppose. Stan's really got his panties in a bunch about our new owners." I sat at the table after grabbing two freshly baked peanut butter cookies and stuffing one into my mouth. "We're supposed to be meeting – them? Him? Her? I don't even know their names – for dinner at seven tonight. I'm _really_ not looking forward to it."

The only positive coming out of it was that I could drink without concern of getting up to go into work tomorrow. I was off every weekend.

"Stan is a smart guy, Sookie dear. If he's worried it's not for no reason. What'd he say?"

I took a breath. What didn't Stan say? He always thought of everything, looked at things from every angle, and then some. "Something about hotels being a _'volatile industry' _and being _'unpredictable',_" I mocked. "I don't know, really. But I think he's worried that we're all going to lose our jobs. Says it happens all the time when a hotel gets bought out."

Gran nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense if you think about it. I mean, whoever was selling must've been selling for a reason. Management is responsible for the success of the hotel, baby. If someone comes in expecting to change things, make them better, then it's probably right that they start with the managers."

"Why do you have to make it make sense, Gran? I just wanted to be mad at Stan for a little longer," I chuckled. "At least until I have to go to this dinner tonight and start kissing major booty to make certain I have a job next week."

"Pish posh, baby girl. You just be you. They'd be a fool to let you go," she said with a smile and patted my hand.

Gran was always an encourager, even when I didn't need it. Sometimes especially when I didn't need it. I kind of loved her a lot for it. "I love you, Gran." I stood and leaned down to kiss her wrinkled cheek. "I'm going to get a shower and get ready."

"I'll make you some tea."

"Ooh, can I have some coffee instead?" I grinned and pinched my fingers together. "With a little white chocolate, maybe?"

Gran waved her hands, shooing me out of the room "Fine. Fine. You and your coffee," she answered, chuckling.

After showering, I took a little extra time on my hair, making sure it was perfectly curled and set before setting out to hunt down my clothes. That probably took the longest because I wanted something professional, but also comfortable. It was a dinner, but not a formal one, so I didn't want to dress up completely.

I decided on a black pin-striped pencil skirt and a satin blouse in a light golden color. It complimented my blonde hair perfectly, and I accented it with a pair of black tear-drop earrings and a matching bangle bracelet.

Since I'd already gotten a head start on my summer tan, compliments of Tara's new tanning salon, I decided not to wear hose, and slipped my feet into a pair of shiny black heels. I looked pretty darn good. Professional but classy and comfortable too. I was dressed to impress but not too the nth degree. I didn't look desperate or anything.

After grabbing my black clutch and smiling at my reflection in the mirror, I made my way downstairs. The muffled sound of voices drifted up to greet me on my way.

"I won't have no arguing now. Sookie's got dinner out with work friends tonight, so it'll just be me here all by my lonesome," Gran was saying. "I've got enough food to feed an army. You're eatin' here tonight, and that's that."

"Yes, ma'am," Clancy responded. I could almost hear him smiling, which he only ever did for my Gran.

"'Sides that, I can't remember the last time I had a proper date," Gran teased. I walked in the room just in time to see her wink at Clancy. He hid a smile as I came fully into the room. Whatever. He was weird. "Oh, here's your coffee, dear," she added as an after thought, passing the steamy cup of heaven across the counter.

"Thanks, Gran," I said as I sipped it carefully. "I'm not sure what time I'll be back tonight, but it shouldn't be too late. You two kids be good. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," I teased my Gran with a wink. Clancy snorted, and I turned to look at him confused. "Was that a laugh? Does Clancy actually know how to laugh?" I teased, smiling.

He scowled at me, gritting his teeth in such a way that made me wonder if he was growling or something. Maybe he was part animal? "Hush that nonsense, Sookie. You be polite to our new neighbor, Clancy, here. He's good, fine people. Hard working too," she added with a nod.

I snickered and turned away from a now half smug looking Clancy. It was as close as I'd ever got to a smile. Did he...? No, I know I didn't just see him checking out my ass. The man hated me. "Yeah, okay, Gran. Love you. I'll see you later."

I took my coffee with me and loaded up in my car. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was clean and didn't give me any trouble. Of course, I wasn't sure exactly how much I should expect from a Hyundai Elantra, a used one at that, but it worked for me. All except for my moody a/c unit.

The more often I drove it, the faster the trip from our house in the outskirts of Bon Temps to downtown Shreveport seemed to be. I guess after it became a regular thing, it didn't seem such a long and bothersome drive. And there simply wasn't much work for a gal in Bon Temps, aside from waitressing at the local bar and grille, Merlotte's – which had paid my way through college – and I'd moved past that time in my life.

We were meeting at a privately owned seafood restaurant. The only bad thing about it being, they had the best damned crawfish around, and there really isn't a proper way to eat mudbugs. I decided I'd have to forget about them for one night, lest I run the risk of looking like an ill-mannered hick. Besides, I didn't want to get any spots on my pretty gold shirt.

When I pulled up, as I suspected he would be, Stan was waiting outside. He was alternating between checking his watch and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he searched the parking lot. In true Stan Davis fashion.

I imagined if there were a way to bottle up nervous energy and feed it espresso and a paranoia pill, give it the brain of the worlds smartest super computer, and then let it procreate, the offspring you'd end up with would be Stan Davis. Seriously, he was the only person in the world I think that could have an actual conversation with a textbook.

His dirty blond hair was a bit shaggy, but he usually had it pulled back. Stan had some of the most amazing blue-grey eyes I'd ever seen, only to be accented by his black-framed spectacles. Despite his lack of fashion sense, he really was a stud in that geeky sort of way.

I loved Stan, most of the time. I flirted and teased him relentlessly. Mostly because he was truly a cutie, and so adorably bashful. But also because he actually blushed when I flirted with him. How many guys were out there that blushed, ever? It was so very appealing to me.

I was easily amused, sue me.

He was actually more dressed up than his usual corduroy jacket and dockers. Black slacks and a white and blue striped shirt, made him look almost normal. I smiled and waved at him as I approached. He fidgeted with his belt. He may have looked cute, but he was uncomfortable as all get out.

"You look nice tonight, Stan," I purred, earning a little bit of that adorable blush.

He gave an awkward chuckle as he shifted his feet and gestured toward the door. "I've already gotten us a table. Mr. Northman is waiting inside."

"He's here already?" It was early. I was early, which almost never happened. I guess I always expected everyone else to run as late as I usually did. It always surprised me when people were early.

"Yes. I was so worried you'd be late and make us look bad." He gave me a pointed look, and I offered him a fake pout. "I think they're interested in keeping the management as is, but just in case, be on your best behavior. I don't have to tell how important this is."

"No, Stan," I sighed. "You don't have to tell me that. Again. I'm always on my best behavior anyway," I said innocently. Stan scoffed but stayed silent. "So," I chirped, smiling as we made our way through the dining room. "You got a hot date later on tonight or something?"

Stan choked out a laugh or choked on his laugh, I couldn't tell the difference. "No. No, Sookie. No date tonight. Unless you count this as one?" He turned the color of a fire engine.

Was he...? "Are you flirting with me, Stan?" I teased, hooking my arm through his, truly flattered by the thought. A girl could do a lot worse than Stan, I'll tell you that.

Stan coughed again, covering his mouth quickly. "Not at all, Sookie. I wouldn't dare."

Yeah right. I knew a flirt when I was given one, and Stan had definitely just given me a flirt. He wasn't too bad at it. With a little practice, I was sure he could be great. I was just a little shocked is all. But, if he liked, Stan could flirt with me all he wanted. His wasn't exactly unwanted attention. No sir-ee.

I kept my mouth shut, biting to hide my cheesy grin as we approached a table toward the back of the dining room. There was a man and a woman, both sitting with their backs to us. They both had magnificent blond hair and were leaning toward each other as they conversed.

Stan cleared his throat as we approached, and I unhooked my arm from his, pasting on a friendly, but fake, smile. "Mr. Northman. Ms. Ravenscroft. I'd like you to meet my assistant, Sookie Stackhouse."

They stood simultaneously, as if tethered together by a lone string, and turned to face us with the same practiced movement. My eyes followed and lifted, and lifted some more as I drank them in.

I reached first for her hand. "So very nice to meet you, Ms. Ravenscroft."

She was beautiful, statuesque and impeccably dressed in a black pants suit with a bright purple chemise underneath. Her heels made her look taller, but I could tell without a tape measure she still had a few inches on me. She was a total ten.

"Likewise," she said, her smile provocative and lovely.

I swallowed with difficulty as I extended my hand to the man. "And you, Mr. Northman. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Well, that was a lie. I'd really been dreading it, but he didn't have to know that. And now that I'd met him, I wanted to beat myself for being so stupid. I wanted to meet him over and over again. And then once more just because.

He was tall. Like really, holy crap, tall. Also very well dressed, in an obviously tailored black suit and plain white button-down shirt. He was also extremely handsome. So good-looking in fact, I'd been reduced to wearing a girlish sort of idolizing grin on my face. I tried to fix it but am afraid it didn't work too well. He smiled, making me weak in the knees as he firmly shook my hand in both of his extremely large hands.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Stackhouse."

I couldn't be positive, but I was almost certain I'd just met the man of my dreams.

**A/N: And there you have it. Chapter one in all its short glory. I never really set a goal for a length in my chapters. I just sort of have a point A and a point B, it takes however long it takes to get from one to the other. **

**Hope you enjoyed, I do look forward to reading your thoughts. So, please press the button and let me know what you think so far.**

**MUAWWWW!**


	3. I Saw Him First

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your comments on the last chapter. I love that you guys are getting excited about this story. Thanks for taking the time to read and review!**

**Special thanks to EtheHunter for looking the chapters over for me. She is my flour, without her I'd just fall flat. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own them, but I like to pretend they're mine once in a while.**

**Failing in Love**

**Chapter 2**

Most of my weekend off was spent in the yard. It was warm enough that I could wear my bathing suit and work on my tan a bit while I helped Gran weed the flower beds and get rid of the loose pine needles that had settled over the winter.

It had also given me a lot of free time to spend fantasizing over one Eric Northman. Dinner had been a fascinating thing. He was an amazingly talented flirt. On more than one occasion, I had found myself blushing and averting my eyes. It had been a long time since I'd met someone who could say something that seemed so innocent, but meant something completely naughty.

Where I thought I was practically a medal away from Olympic flirting, Eric made it seem like it was as easy as breathing. It wasn't a sport to him, just something that came natural. I wondered, for probably the thousandth time, when I would get to see him again.

Originally I had suspected Eric and Pam to be a couple, but that idea was debunked when she eyed my cleavage one too many times. Pam was definitely more into women than she was men. I didn't have Pam to worry about as far as competition went, but there was every other single (and probably married) straight woman in the world that would undoubtedly want a piece (or six) of Eric Northman. Hell, maybe even a few men too.

The fact that I was going to have to pull out a few tricks was very appealing to me. It had been too long since I'd played the game, and I was determined to win Eric over. He was too beautiful for even me. I was going to have to up my game.

I had him in mind while I was getting dressed for work on Monday. He and Pam had said they would be stopping by the first part of the week to go over a few changes with Stan they'd wanted to be made as far as operations went.

I honestly didn't want to be a part of that conversation. I knew I'd get it all secondhand from Stan either way. But I wanted to look damn good when Eric showed his handsome face. My first impression hadn't been a bad one on my part, but I was going to let Eric's memory think it hadn't done me justice with the second one.

A good fitting pair of slacks with the right cut can be just as sexy, if not more so, as a skirt. In my opinion at least. They were charcoal grey, and I paired them with a white fitted button-down that accented my boobs really wonderfully. A wide black belt completed the look and made my waist look teeny-tiny.

Men were carnally visual creatures.

Gran was over at Ms. Fortenberry's house as she was most weekdays. I'm not sure what all they did, but I assumed it was a lot of gabbing and maybe a little crocheting. Gran never was a big gossip, but most of her friends were. Really though, I was glad she had some friends to keep her from getting lonely.

Life hadn't been easy for her. Losing her daughter, and son-in-law just a few years after they had given her grandchildren, had to have been difficult. I didn't have kids, but as a woman, I suspected that I'd never want to live to the day I had to watch my children die.

Pappy, her husband and my grandfather, had left her alone with two pretty young kids six short years later. Jason had been almost sixteen, but I was still thirteen, and a baby in many ways. As well as I thought she did raising us, we hadn't exactly made it easy on her some years. Maybe that was part of the reason I was still living at home at the ripe age of twenty-seven. I loved her too much to let her live in that big old house by herself.

Jason came around, but not often enough for my liking, and never for much longer than it took to eat a good meal and pack some leftovers. I loved my brother, but he wasn't exactly the most thoughtful person when it came to others. I wouldn't particularly call him selfish, just oblivious at times.

I envied him that simplicity sometimes, I'll admit.

I pulled up at the hotel a few minutes before nine. I was actually early again. Of course, I could probably attribute that to the fact that I was anxious to see Eric again, but I'd never admit to that. Well, that was a lie. I was obsessed with the man, and not ashamed to admit it.

Amelia attacked me as soon as I was in the door. "Oh. My. God. Is it true? They said the new owner is a panty melter." She was so...brash. "Marie, in housekeeping, said he was mucho gusto," she snorted.

Amelia sucked at Spanish. I doubted Marie said that at all. Or maybe she did, but there was probably a lot more too it than that. That just happened to be all that Amelia could pick out of it. Gossiping and making streetwalkers blush was Amelia's forte. Speaking foreign languages, not so much.

"He's in there with Stan right now. I haven't seen him. Have you seen him? Did y'all go out to dinner the other night? Tell me. Why aren't you talking?"

I laughed. "'Cause you haven't shut your trap long enough for me to get a word in edge wise." I fluffed my hair a little. Eric was in the office. With Stan. Flutter bunnies were having babies in my tummy. Amelia rolled her eyes at me. "He's gorgeous, Amelia. Good-looking does not come close to covering it."

I let out a dreamy sigh as I remembered.

Amelia squealed, making me cringe and shush her. "Look at you! You've got him marked already, don't you?" she teased as she poked me. "Not fair."

I smiled, vicious. "All's fair in love and war. Besides, I saw him first." I winked. "Dibs," I giggled.

She huffed. "I hate you. Also, you know you're going to have to tell me all about it. And I do mean _every_ single, dirty and naughty little detail." She narrowed her eyes at me and smiled mischievously. "I'm not sure how long they've been in there, but I don't expect them to be too much longer."

"I've got to get a few things done through the hotel. Mind keeping an eye out for me?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Ok, text when they come out." I turned to walk away, but then remembered something. "Oh, Meal's, Pam, his associate, is pretty hot too." I winked.

Amelia squeaked and bounced, clapping her hands like a child. "Ooh, I can't wait to meet her."

I left Amelia with a laugh. I knew she'd be more interested in Pam than she would be in Eric. Of course, had I not claimed him off limits, she would have totally been all over Eric _and_ Pam. She simply didn't have a preference. She was a care free and very loving spirit. Had been since kindergarten. I couldn't find it in myself to begrudge her that, no matter how hard it might have been for some to accept something so different.

I went down to check on housekeeping and look inside a few rooms before heading over to make sure maintenance was getting on some repairs and upkeep that needed to be done. Stan was good at books. I was good with the people. They listened to me even though I was never really hard-handed with them.

I kept checking my phone, even though I knew I didn't have it on vibrate. I guess I was more than a little excited about seeing Eric again. Once I was certain the behind-the-scenes things were running like a well-oiled machine, I made my way back to the office. I stopped for a moment to fix a cup of coffee while I was in the lobby. Amelia was busy at the counter with a couple of guests checking out.

Even though we'd turned over to self check-out years ago, like most hotels, I think some people had a hard time breaking old habits. They come down and did it this same way for years, may as well keep on doing it. Gran would have said, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it". Really, it hadn't ever been broken. This was simply a way to save guests a matter of two or three minutes of precious time.

Time was a priceless thing nowadays. And a commodity.

I'd just powered up my laptop and set my coffee in its holder when the door to Stan's office opened a crack. I think my heart fluttered a little. I walked to the other side of my desk, positioning myself so Eric couldn't possibly walk by without passing me.

Smooth, I know, but not at all subtle, I'm afraid. Being subtle was overrated anyway.

He came out of the office with a smirk curving his lips, drop-dead gorgeous just as I remembered. Eric was dressed slightly more casually, with a pair of navy slacks and a baby blue shirt. Still, he looked edible to me. I think I licked my lips in preparation of doing exactly that.

Eric closed the distance between us and took my hand in his, leaning to whisper in my ear. "You've stolen my breath, Sookie," he whispered. I may have whimpered, but at the same time I stopped breathing. Eric chuckled. "Now, I've returned the favor."

I was the color of blood when he pulled back, because every last drop had rushed to my head. Quickly, but not without effort, I was able to make my lips curl into a hopefully demure sort of smile. "Good to see you again, Eric," I said, my voice shaking only slightly.

He gave me a real smile then and winked. "Have dinner with me tonight?"

There wasn't even a smidgen of hesitation when I answered. _No_ was no longer in my vocabulary. "Okay. What time?"

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," Stan said from somewhere. I'd managed to create a bubble of ignorance around me and Eric since the moment he walked fully into my office. "Do you not prefer to keep some rule on fraternization?"

I could really strangle Stan sometimes. Eric winked at my frown before turning to face Stan. "No sense in that rule, since by simply having it you're making the prospect of fraternization that much more appealing. Date or hang out with who you'd like, as far as I'm concerned. As long as it doesn't affect your professional environment, of course."

I smiled at Stan's gaping mouth. He was catching flies, looking back and forth between Eric and I. Stan frowned as his eyes finally settled on me, and I tilted my head, curious. He looked odd. Pissed? Stan definitely looked upset, but before I could ask him what was wrong, he turned and closed his office door behind him.

Eric squeezed my hand, making me hyper-aware of how close he was and how warm and strong the caress of his fingers were. "What time do you normally call it a day? I could pick you up from here?"

What? I frowned and looked at my clothes. "I'd need to change," I said, as if he should already know this.

Eric shook his head. "Don't you dare. You look absolutely beautiful."

While that was true, it sort of made me feel like it was more of a work date than it did a regular one. And while I may have been making the wrong assumption on how he was asking me, I didn't think I was. I smiled and gave my lashes an extra flutter when I looked up to him. "All the same, I'd prefer to put on something a little less...business-y."

Eric's eyes raked me over with a hungry look. I could feel my skin prickling and heating under his scrutiny and my breath was coming out in short harsh pants that I tried, and failed, to regulate. "I think I'd like to see you in something a little more..." his eyes snared mine, and they were molten, "comfortable."

I smiled and gave Eric directions to my house after telling him I'd be ready by about six-thirty. I had to work during breakfast on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I didn't want to be out too late.

Eric turned my hand in his, pulling the back of it to his lips. "I'll be looking forward to it all day," he purred.

"See ya," I said sweetly, blushing but still able to add a little twist to my hips as I walked back towards Stan's office. Eric waved a little over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner. I took a deep breath, holding in the squeal until I was in private.

I wasn't completely insane.

I was still grinning when I opened the door to Stan's office. He looked up from a stack of papers with a very serious expression. "I don't think this is a good idea, Sookie."

"What? Why not?" I knew he was talking about my date with Eric, even without having to ask. I knew from that look moments ago he was going to have something to say about it once Eric had gone.

He shook his head. "It's like asking for something bad to happen. What if things don't work out between you? What if you hurt him or he hurts you? Will you still work here? Will he fire you?" I rolled my eyes. "Stop it, Sookie, you know I'm right. There's just too many things that could go wrong in this scenario."

"Relax, Stan, it's not as if I'm marrying the guy." I sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, adjacent to him, and crossed my legs. "It's just dinner, a date. You're too serious all the time."

"And you don't take things seriously enough, Sookie. Think about it. Eric is the owner. Not only could he fire you, but he could also make it that much more difficult for you to find a new job." He held up his hands as I tried to speak. "I'm not saying it's going to happen. I'm just saying, if it does, it could be really bad."

I knew he meant well, but Stan really did worry more than one person should. I smiled as I crossed my arms and leaned over towards his desk. "I appreciate it, Stan, thanks." he nodded and looked down at his papers again.

I wasn't done. "You know what this means, right?" Stan looked up, confusion wrinkling his brow. "It means you and I can hang out, too." He turned the color of my favorite red nail polish, and I grinned brighter. "Gran's been dying to have you over and feed you a good meal. Says you're too skinny."

He gave a nervous chuckle and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not too skinny. But I'd love to have dinner with you sometime, Sookie," he shifted his eyes behind me and then to the floor. "I mean with you and your Gran, of course."

Stan was just too cute for words. "Of course," I teased, giggling.

Stan grinned and looked away trying to hide it. When he looked back, his face was sober and serious once more. "I really don't know if I like the idea of you going out with him,Sookie. Well, I _know_ I don't like the idea of it, but I guess I'm not going to change your mind, huh?"

"Stan, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous." I sat back again, raising my chin just a notch higher. "You're not jealous, are you, Stan?"

Stan had done nothing but thwart my every attempt. Not that I'd really been throwing myself at him or anything, since the previous owner frowned upon dating within the company. But I hadn't exactly acted like all the feelings I had for Stan were purely platonic. Stan had never once shown any interest.

Stan's jaw tightened and twitched. I'd never seen that look on his face, and I had to admit it was pretty damn sexy. Especially when he pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, Sookie. I'm not jealous," he finally said. "I just want you to be careful, is all."

I smiled gently at him. "I will be, Stan. I promise."

I'd kinda been hoping he was jealous. Darn.

**A/N: Woo hoo! And there's chapter 2. I hope you liked and will take the time to leave your thoughts. Sadly, this was the last chapter I'd had anything written on. But I'm hoping I can get a little bit of writing done this week. If not for this story, then for one of my other ongoing ones.**

**Thanks to everyone for their patience and support. You guys amaze me daily! Sometimes I give up on myself, and you guys bring me back in with gusto!**

**KISSES!**


	4. First Date, First Dance

**A/N: To answer a couple questions really quick. I don't want to say I won't write another POV at some point in this story, because I might, but I don't have one planned as of right now. Also, notice in the summary it says "canon and non-canon pairings." I won't give anything away on that front, so you'll have to wait it out to find out who Sookie ends up with. Sorry.**

**Special thanks to EtheHunter for her love, support, and edits. I think sometimes I might just give it all up without her. I can never thank her enough.**

**Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and I don't make any money doing this. **

**Failing in Love**

**Chapter 3**

I figured a nice sundress would be fine for my "maybe" date with Eric. It was a simple fabric, blue with vertical, white stripes and spaghetti straps. I paired it with my favorite white wedges and kept my jewelry to a single pair of pearl studs.

Gran was pulling a pie out of the oven when I came back downstairs. I suspected Eric would be there any minute since it was six-twenty. I'd managed to get ready just in time, and felt like I'd accomplished something major since Stan had kept me later than usual.

If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he was trying to sabotage my date'ish thing with Eric, which was so very unlike Stan. He wasn't normally one for creating unnecessary work for people, and yet he'd had me checking the bottoms of trashcans and inspecting toasters for fingerprints. I wasn't sure what his problem was.

"Am I going to meet this date of yours?" Gran asked, pulling me from my musings.

I sighed. She always wanted to meet them. I suspected, if it were possible, she'd have preferred to meet them even before I did. Make sure they were up to snuff, I supposed. Gran was always trying to look out for me.

"Maybe next time, Gran. If there's a next time, that is," I added, frowning.

"Well, why wouldn't there be?" She set the pie in the center of the table to cool. I think Gran had a rule of some sort that said there had to be at least one dessert of some kind in the house at all times. Cookies, pie, cake, something with sugar and lots of fat.

"I don't know. I wasn't saying there wouldn't be, really, just saying it's the first date is all. Never know what can happen." I winked and Gran shook her head. "I promise though, if he asks me out again, I'll bring him in to meet you first. Okay?"

"Alright, sugar, whatever you think is best."

I walked over and dipped my finger in the cherry juice coming out of the top of the pie to taste. Gran reached to smack my hand, but I was out of the way before she could catch me. We both laughed, until my attention was drawn to the sound of tires on the gravel.

"Love you, Gran," I said distractedly, already heading to grab my purse on the way to the door. "Don't wait up," I hollered over my shoulder. Gran's snickers followed me out the door.

Eric had parked, and waved when he saw me come out of the house, and I closed the door behind me. I smiled in return and skipped down the steps to greet him.

"You look beautiful, Sookie," Eric said as soon as I reached the car. He was wearing the same baby blue dress shirt, but had traded his slacks for a pair of dark washed jeans. He looked positively yummy.

"You look downright handsome yourself," I said, almost surprised I'd actually said it. It seemed Eric brought out the mega flirt in me. I blushed.

He smiled as I reached the handle and opened the passenger door, facing me from the other side of the car. "So, where are we going tonight?" I asked, so I didn't tell him how dreamy his eyes were. Maybe after a few drinks I would.

Eric smiled again as we pulled out of my driveway. "There's a little jazz bar just outside of Monroe. They've got great gumbo, and a really mellow atmosphere."

"You had me at gumbo," I said, giggling.

"How do you feel about dancing?" he asked.

"Me? Oh, I love dancing. You?"

His smile turned devilish. It was positively killer, that smile of his, all teeth and soft lips. "As long as I get you in my arms, I'm fine with dancing."

I blushed and had to look away as I bit my lip. I couldn't help but imagine myself dancing with him, and those thoughts conjured up all sorts of naughty things in my mind. Naked dancing, perhaps? "Can you turn the A/C on?"

Eric chuckled, like he knew exactly why I suddenly needed the air conditioner. Thankfully, though, he didn't say anything to further raise my blood pressure. He clicked the air up with a flick of his wrist as we coasted onto the highway.

I had to break the silence with something mundane, but I wasn't sure where to begin. I figured a few personal questions would be okay. "So, how long have you lived in the area? Did you just move here?"

"Uh, no. We've been here for a few years now. Pam finished her degree at the University in Monroe, and we moved to Shreveport right after."

Well, that was something at least. Judging by the look on his face, Eric was a little reluctant to talk about it. I wondered why. I couldn't seem to keep myself from asking something I'd been curious about. "So, Pam? She's...what to you?"

He frowned a little, seemingly in thought for a moment before he spoke. "Pam is many things to me, I suppose. My mother adopted her when she was sixteen, so I guess, technically, I should call her a sibling, but our relationship is a bit more complicated than that."

"Oh, okay." I didn't really know what else to say to that. "So how long have you been working in hotels?"

Eric flinched slightly, making me almost regret the question, even though I wasn't sure why. But then he smiled at me, shining pretty, straight teeth through his very kissable looking lips. "I'd rather not talk about work, if you don't mind."

"Of course," I said with a snort. "I can completely understand that." We were pulling into the restaurant and, as if eager, my stomach gave a loud rumble. I grimaced. "Sorry. God, that's so embarrassing." I covered my face with my hands, hiding.

I heard Eric chuckle, but I couldn't bear to look at him. Date or not, I didn't know Eric that well, and bodily sounds were an embarrassment even _I _didn't like to acknowledge. "You're hungry. Let's get you fed."

I laughed, more out of discomfort than anything else, and reached for the door handle. Eric was waiting when I stepped out, and I finally met his gaze. It wasn't admonishing or anything of the sort, but slightly amused. I think that made it a little worse, but I stepped in line beside him anyway, determined to get past my silly unease.

Eric's large hand settled on the small of my back, erasing the embarrassment and making another sort of heat warm my face. He had _very_ big hands. Thankfully, I didn't squirm too much and was able to keep my thoughts in check as the hostess led us to a table in a darkened corner of the bar.

It was a place I'd never been to before, so I took the time, looking around as we walked through.

Eric hadn't been stretching when he said it had a nice atmosphere. Small tables lined the walls and the center of the floor, making for private meals, each with a single, tall candle and votive atop. It was pretty dark, especially after coming in from the bright sun outside, and it seemed the candles were only lit when the tables were occupied. A few flickered in the recess lighting coming from the dark ceiling.

Assorted paintings and pictures dotted the walls, all of them vibrantly colored renditions of musicians or the occasional singer standing over a microphone. A huge bar filled the back wall, done completely in cherry wood, with mirrors and pristine glasses shining like diamonds in the dim light.

A raised platform took up the front of the dining room. A piano, drums and guitar, awaiting to be played, decorated the small space. Surrounding it was an oblong-shaped wooden dance floor. It sort of curved around the sides of the stage, ending just before the seating area.

"How long has this place been here?" I asked Eric, shocked I'd never heard of it before. "Herveaux's" was painted in calligraphy on the sign out front, and I wondered if it was a name. I knew it wasn't one I'd ever heard.

His hand, which had been resting on the small of my back, moved slightly to the side, wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer to him. I felt him shift to lean down and talk into my ear. "It's a family business," he said as the hostess seated us against the wall. "An old associate of mine, his son, Alcide Herveaux, actually runs it now."

He said "old associate" as if he'd known the person his whole life, which prompted my next question. "How old are you, Eric? You don't seem old enough to have associates."

He smiled and leaned across the table, clasping my hands in his. "Thirty. And I've had associates since I was a toddler, Sookie."

I wasn't too sure what to make of that last statement, since he'd said it as if it were a bad thing, so I didn't push it any further.

A waitress came over to take our drink orders, wearing what one could only call a bathing suit. It was a lime green tube top with matching panties that had suspenders attached to them. I tried not to gape, but her boobs were a wiggle away from saying hello to our table top.

Eric eyed her with a detached sort of interest. I wasn't sure if it was in my place to be jealous of his obvious perusal of her exposed skin, but I was certain that it wasn't something I liked on a personal level.

"See something you like?" I asked when she walked away.

"Jealous?" Eric asked with a knowing smirk.

I snorted. "I don't know if I'd say jealous. I mean, the girl was wearing spandex and fishnets. I'm not sure there's much more out there that screams 'Hey look at me.' Hell,_ I _was looking."

Eric chuckled. "No harm, no foul, then?"

"I suppose," I said with a smile. "Her name tag said 'Bambi.' Whose name is Bambi?" I joked, trying to loosen some of the tension from my bones. I didn't have a right to say he couldn't look, but all the same... "Just don't let it happen again. I've got plenty for you to look at." I winked.

Eric leered, obviously intent on my breasts, and I struggled not to squirm. My skin did heat up, wasn't much I could do about that. It was a natural reaction, woman to a man; a physical preparation for a possible coupling. And thoughts of that nature weren't going to settle my hormones either. I tried to shake them off.

"Yes, you do," Eric agreed, moistening his lips. I followed the action; it was beautifully sensual. His lips looked very kissably soft.

I chose to respond to that by clearing my throat and picking up the menu. Now that I had his full attention, the temperature seemed to increase a hundred times over. "So, besides the gumbo, what's good here?"

Eric, unphased, picked up his menu as well. "Everything is good. But I always have the gumbo. Pam usually has the jambalaya. It's pretty good too."

A waiter walked past, dropping a basket of cornbread in the center of the table, and I found myself gaping again. I could hardly believe I hadn't noticed the male employee's before then. They were wearing pin-striped slacks with suspenders and a white tank top underneath. They all looked like Chippendale dancers.

"What kind of place is this?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Is the band the entertainment, or do the servers get up and do strip teases? Should I have brought cash?"

Eric coughed through his laugh. "No. No, nothing like that. Alcide just likes a certain kind of atmosphere."

I gave Eric a skeptical look. A lust-crazed atmosphere? Whatever. I'd probably never understand it. Sure, I was just like every other red-blooded female and enjoyed looking at man-candy as much as the next gal, but I didn't necessarily want their body hair all in my etouffee.

Bimbo Bambi came back with our drinks and took our dinner order with a bright, white smile and a few extra jiggles for effect. Maybe she just wanted a big tip.

Eric wasn't really one for sharing, so I refrained from asking too many questions. Maybe he just didn't like sharing all his personal information on a first date. If that's even what it was. I suppose I could understand that, at least to some degree.

I had no such qualms, though, and openly talked about any and everything. I told him all about my Gran, and my brother, Jason. Eric listened intently. I talked about losing our parents when we were younger, going to school, and college. I was an open book, and someone needed to fill the tense silence.

Otherwise, it was likely I'd just reach across the table and start making out with him.

Don't get me wrong, I've no problems with making out in public, but to do some of the things I imagined doing to Eric right in the middle of the dining room seemed a little much. Even for me.

The band started playing about mid-way through our dinner, and they were good. A local talent, Eric had said, one I'd never heard of. But they played a low, smooth rhythm that was easy to talk over, and set a sort of romantic, sultry vibe in the darkened space.

We finished dinner, and I was really tempted to order dessert – the bread pudding did sound delicious – but I was more anxious to see Eric move on the dance floor. "Ready to show me what you got?" I asked, standing and extending my hand for him.

He looked shocked for a moment that I'd stolen his chance to ask me to dance. I grinned widely. He took my hand after a second, rising to his full height and making me swallow my nerves. He really was a sight to behold. All beautiful lines, sculpted beneath his tailored clothes, and golden skin and hair that made him look as devilish as it did handsome.

He frightened me, but in the very best sort of way.

I led him to the small dance floor, adding a bit of sashay in my step as I did, knowing he would watch. I smiled while he couldn't see me, schooling my face as I turned back to my extremely tall dance partner.

Eric stepped close, predatory in his gaze as he looked down at me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. I gave a tight smile as I aligned my body against his and placed the palms of my hands on his chest. Solid. Just as I'd suspected.

The first song was the easiest, if a bit awkward as we got a feel for how to move with each other. But by the second song, we were in sync, our bodies meshed together, twisting, stepping, and spinning together as if we'd practiced our moves for months.

By the time we got to the third song, Eric's hands were wandering, and my own seemed to be on their own journey over his fabric-covered torso. I wasn't sweating, yet. But it was only a matter of time. The feel of him against me, conforming my own body against his harder one, was nearly as good as having sex. Only with a lot more clothes.

I wasn't the only one that seemed to be affected, either. Eric was breathing a bit heavily, and I could feel his warm breath rasp over my hair and shoulder occasionally as we spun and clung to one another, moving with the hypnotic beat of the drums.

His hands trailed lower, brushing the base of my spine and teasing my bottom – which was practically begging to be squeezed by that point. Then they trailed higher, his thumbs tracing the line of my breasts and making me lose the air in my lungs. It was suddenly stifling.

I sucked in a breath, lifting my eyes to his as I tugged my lip between my teeth. I was asking for it, I knew it. But I wanted it. I _so_ wanted it. His lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my skin.

Eric's lips were moist and parted, waiting, _begging,_ and I stood on my toes to close the distance, tired of waiting. Eric stepped back, his eyes shifting left and right, and I wanted to pout. How could he refuse me? I felt more than a little ashamed until I felt his hands slide down my arms and clasp my hands.

He tugged and I followed, unsure what he had in mind, but knowing if it involved a kiss, it would be worth it. I was so hot for him. Just one taste, and I knew I'd want more. But I had to have it. He was just as tempting as one of Gran's pies, which never ever went to waste.

Eric walked toward the back, stepping up to a curtained area and pushing it aside to allow us to enter. It revealed a tiny hallway that housed the restrooms, but I'd hardly had the time to notice them before Eric had me pressed against a wall, his long body pinning me in place. Not that I wanted to be anywhere else.

There was no hesitance when his lips met mine. His lips were hot and demanding, firm and controlling, and I gave myself over to him completely, allowing and _needing_ him to consume me. He tasted like the scotch he'd been drinking, and a little spicy from the hot sauce he'd put in his gumbo, but it was a delicious combination.

He bent his knees, lifting me so he could reach better, and I could feel all of him against me. And I do mean all. _Oh boy! _I whimpered, wrapping my arms tightly around him and holding myself up on my toes. Eric's hands finally found my bottom and I moaned into his mouth when he gave it a squeeze.

I can't say for certain how long it was that we actually kissed, or if anyone had walked in and noticed us. I was hardly in the right mind set for paying attention to those sorts of details. But it felt like minutes, or maybe hours. Either way, it wasn't nearly long enough.

A warm palm found its way beneath the skirt of my dress, giving me pause when I felt fingers brushing the edge of my panties. No matter how badly I wanted to give over to my crazy need to have Eric in every way possible, it wasn't going to happen yet. His hands, no matter how tempting they were, were an eye opener, and I pulled back.

"We need to stop. Someone could walk in."

Eric didn't seem to care since his lips were attached to my neck. "Let them watch."

I moaned, tilting my head to give him better access even as I spoke. "No, we gotta stop. It's too fast. I don't do things like this on the first date."

Eric groaned, licking his way up to my ear. "Things like what?"

"Like this," I whispered. "I don't have sex on the first date."

Eric pulled back a bit more, sobering some, though I could still feel his obvious arousal pressed against me in a fantastic way. "I'm not sure I can give you what you're looking for, Sookie."

Well, that was out of left field. I let go, allowing my body to slide down his so I could stand fully on my own two feet. "And what exactly is it you think I'm looking for?"

Eric ran a hand through his disheveled hair, making him look even more irresistible and sexy. He gave me a confused look. "A relationship?" He'd said it like a question, and I wasn't sure what to make of that. I decided honesty was better than nothing.

"Well, I'm not sure that I'm looking for a relationship, Eric. I hardly know you. But I know I'm not looking for a one-night-stand."

Eric smiled lightly. "I can respect that."

"Good. Because you're not getting any tonight. No matter how good your kissing skills are," I teased, winking a bit at his smirk. It was the challenging sort of smirk, and I wondered if he was thinking about giving it a try, kissing me until I gave in. I spoke, making it impossible for him. "I think it's best if I go home now. I do have to work early in the morning."

"Yes, of course," Eric said and led me back out to the dining area, where he paid our check and generously tipped Bimbo Bambi.

She gave him a strange look as we were leaving, and I had an insecure thought that Eric could have easily taken her home. But I shook it off as silly, ignoring my stupid and unwarranted jealousy.

We drove back to my place mostly in silence. It wasn't really the awkward kind, more like the tense kind. I could feel his heated gaze at regular intervals, and there was a basic, primal part of me that was more than willing to toss my one rule of dating by the wayside and take full advantage of what he was packing, and so obviously offering, right there in the car.

But I still had a bit of will power left, and I pushed its limits as far as I could, resisting my desires.

We pulled up to the house, and I stopped Eric from walking me to the door with a palm on his chest. Lord knows, I didn't need any further temptation to invite him in. If he was on my porch, I knew I'd imagine what he'd look like in my bed. Not that I hadn't already. "Call me," I said softly and tugged on his shirt.

Eric came willingly, and I got my last taste of him for the night. Delving in with a quick, but meaningful, sweep of my tongue. I was seriously pushing it.

I pulled back, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight, Eric. Thanks for a wonderful night," I called, just before I shut the door.

**A/N: Alrighty, and there you have their first date. I do hope you enjoyed the longer chapter. It was fun to write, that's for sure. Mmm! I do love dancing. Nothing works up your libido like a little bump and grind. hehe**

**Please press the button below and leave me your thoughts. I'm not above begging, if I must. **

**KISSES!**


	5. Hey, This is My Fishing Hole

**A/N: Wow! Do I have anyone still out there reading this story? Man, it's been forever since I've updated this, and I really can't apologize enough. Hopefully, I haven't lost all of you. Sorry if you have to go back and read the previous chapters to refresh your memory.**

**Special thanks to: EtheHunter for beta'ing and being all around awesome. I have mad love for her. Schafer pre-read. These two ladies mean more than words can say. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, nor do I make any money playing with them.**

**Previously...**

_We drove back to my place mostly in silence. It wasn't really the awkward kind, more like the tense kind. I could feel his heated gaze at regular intervals, and there was a basic, primal part of me that was more than willing to toss my one rule of dating by the wayside and take full advantage of what he was packing, and so obviously offering, right there in the car._

_But I still had a bit of will power left, and I pushed its limits as far as I could, resisting my desires._

_We pulled up to the house, and I stopped Eric from walking me to the door with a palm on his chest. Lord knows, I didn't need any further temptation to invite him in. If he was on my porch, I knew I'd imagine what he'd look like in my bed. Not that I hadn't already. "Call me," I said softly and tugged on his shirt._

_Eric came willingly, and I got my last taste of him for the night. Delving in with a quick, but meaningful, sweep of my tongue. I was seriously pushing it._

_I pulled back, stepping out of the car. "Goodnight, Eric. Thanks for a wonderful night," I called, just before I shut the door._

**SPOV**

I waited the prerequisite three days for Eric to call me. Then I waited three more. I gave up after a week. Maybe I should have called him, but I wasn't that type of girl.

Sure, Eric and I had a great time, and the chemistry between us was just...wow. But, he'd made the date in the first place, so if he wanted a second he was going to make that one, too. After that, I'd just have to wait and see.

Maybe it was Eric's comment and seeming reluctance when it came to relationships that had ultimately kept me from picking up the phone. There was definitely something that held me back. I wasn't too sure about Eric, despite his talented tongue and flawless features.

Looks and fuckhot make out sessions weren't everything.

And yet, there was still a small part of me that was disappointed he hadn't called. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? He was smart, and financially stable. I didn't know him that well personally, but I liked him so far, and wouldn't have been against getting to know him better.

But I wasn't going to sit around waiting for him. No siree!

The next week flew by, and Amelia and I made plans to visit Hot Rod's, the exotic male dance club, in Monroe on Saturday evening. It had just opened a few weeks before, and I'd never been to one. Though I'd be lying if I said I had no interest in seeing half dressed men dance around on stage for singles. I was very interested in that. So, I was looking forward to going.

I took off half a day on Friday, and had just finished helping Gran tend the garden. As promised. We were sipping lemonade and sitting on the porch swing, enjoying the gentle breeze and peace and quiet.

Ah, the simple life.

Gran stood up after about thirty minutes or so, claiming she needed a nap. Hell, I was seconds away from taking a nap myself right there on the porch. It was hot, but it was breezy enough to feel nice.

"I might walk down to the lake," I told her, then gave her forehead a quick kiss.

"Have fun, dear. If it weren't for these old bones, I'd go with you," Gran chuckled and headed inside.

I sat in the swing for a little longer just enjoying the quiet. Birds chirped and I could hear the wind rustle the leaves on the trees, but it was so quiet. You had to love life outside of the city for that very reason.

Before making my way down to the lake, I grabbed my fishing tackle, some bait, and a cool bottle of water. I didn't plan on staying long, but sometimes I lost track of time when I was fishing. It wasn't something I got to do often, but I love doing it.

I didn't want to dig up fresh worms for bait – my favorite – so I settled for the bag of minnows. Somehow, I never was quite sure, we always seemed to have a bag of those sitting around. Probably it was Jason, though he never said it was.

I walked down the deck and slipped my shoes off. Jason and Hoyt, his best friend, had spent all last summer building the thing, and it was the only thing that had changed about the quiet lake for as long as I could remember. I loved the new addition.

I sat down and dipped my feet into the water. Cool, but not cold and very refreshing. After I baited my hook, I cast the line out as far as I could, then sat back and waited. There wasn't a lazier hobby than fishing, or one more relaxing, for that matter.

I got a few nibbles, mostly brim that needed to be tossed back. The lake was stocked with an assortment of fish, catfish, trout, brim. Most of the time you couldn't snag a catfish unless you went out toward the center in a flat-bottom, but the trout swam closer to the shore.

I was hoping to catch one big enough for dinner.

I let another brim go, feeling its scratchy, slimy skin slither against my palms and reached for another minnow.

"What are you doing out here?" A deep voice sounded from behind me.

Several things happened at once then. I screamed and jumped, dropped my bag of minnows into the lake and stabbed myself with the hook.

"Ow!" I stuck my thumb in my mouth and sucked. "You can't schneak up on pweople wike that," I mumbled around my bleeding thumb.

Clancy grunted. Maybe he was some sort of caveman or something. "What're you doing out here?"

I pulled the digit out of my mouth and squeezed it to stop the bleeding. "Baking a cake. What the heck does it look like I'm doing?"

Clancy glared and I quirked an eyebrow. "Don't look like the fishing type to me," he muttered and invited himself to sit down.

It was only then I noticed he was toting fishing gear over his shoulder. His pole was a lot nicer than mine. I thought about saying something like, "Nice rod you got there," and it made me snort. Clancy glared at me again, which only made me laugh out loud.

"Sorry," I said still laughing, even though I really wasn't. "I didn't know people who fished looked a certain way?"

Clancy shook is head and snorted. "They don't look like you."

"Like me?" I was beginning to take offense.

"Yeah, you know, pretty chicks. Prissy girls don't like to get dirty."

"Hey! I get dirty all the time," I squeaked and then blushed, realizing how I sounded. "Look, just because I paint my toenails and wear clothes that aren't covered in grease, doesn't make me a 'prissy girl.' And quite frankly, I'm offended you'd even suggest such a thing."

"Whatever," he grumbled and drew back to toss his line out.

"You made me drop my bait," I complained. "Least you can do, since you're not leaving, is let me have some of yours."

He sighed heavily, muttering something under his breath, and slid his bucket of worms next to me. "Don't expect me to do it for you, girl."

I mocked him, making a face and mouthing his words at him. God, he was so infuriating. I dug around in the bucket with my uninjured hand, snatched up a slithering worm, and put it on the hook like an old pro. I drew back my rod and cast it out into the water, giving Clancy a smug look when mine landed farther out than his.

Take that grunt boy.

"You made me stab myself," I whined after a minute with no nibbles.

"Shh. Fishing is a silent sport."

"It won't stop bleeding," I continued, ignoring his jab.

"Jesus, woman. Let me see the damn thing." He set his pole to the side, propping it between his thigh and the deck.

"What are you gonna do? Spit on it?" Damn caveman, I tell you. Clancy was something else. I don't think he had a gentlemanly bone in his body.

He gave me an evil eye that basically told me to shut the hell up and held out his hand expectantly. I huffed and put my hand in his.

He poked the wound, and I flinched, trying to draw my hand back, but he held tight. "Don't make it worse," I nagged.

"Don't you ever shut up?"

"No," I snarked. I was about ready to stab _him_ with a hook. I looked around for a spare.

Clancy gripped my thumb hard between two of his fingers, cutting off the circulation. With his other hand, he lifted the end of his shirt to his mouth and ripped off a strip with his teeth. Ohholysixpack!

Oh my!

He tied the cloth to my thumb, covering the bloody hole and knotting it tight enough to staunch to blood flow. I would have complained, but I was too busy still staring at his abs. Clancy was ripped. I might've drooled a little, but then I remembered who it was I was ogling.

"Thanks," I said, and looked at him.

Of course, Clancy was a dude, so he looked totally smug, and asshole'ish. He straightened the remains of his shirt. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up. Don't take it personal or anything. I've got eyes, and you're easy on 'em. I can't help but look." Clancy looked skeptical, so I just shrugged and went back to staring at the water. I wasn't going to make an effort to convince him he was hot.

And he was good looking. Not really in the traditional sense of the word, but more in that gruff, bad-boy sort of way.

Clancy was _that_ guy. You know the type. He was the guy you crushed on in high school, but would never, ever admit it to anyone. Mostly because he sometimes looked dirty, and he probably smoked. Though he wouldn't have been the type to hide behind the school and do it.

No, he'd be the one doing it right out front in plain view of the teachers. Of course, because he was _that_ guy, the teachers were pretty much too scared to say anything about it.

But still, something in your teenage girl heart, locked on to that boy and crushed on him super hard. In secret, of course. Super, super, I-won't-even-write-such-a-thing-in-my-diary, secret.

Clancy was_ that_ guy from school that never seemed to fit into any clique, but also never seemed to be bothered by it. He had friends, but you really only ever saw him with his girlfriend. Most of the time it was the same girl all through high school, too. Bad girl type, probably an easy lay, foul-mouthed, with heavy or no make-up and biker boots.

The kind of chick other girls were scared of. Oh, and she probably had a tattoo.

"Who did you date in high school?" I asked. Of course, Clancy hadn't heard my thoughts, so he just gave me a funny look. "Just curious. What did she look like?"

He looked put out, but he answered. "Sabina. Dark hair, blue eyes, fair skin. Tall and curvy."

Ah, so he dated the goth chick. Figured. I snorted to myself. "You just had the one then?"

"'Course," he answered, as if it were a stupid question.

Yep, Clancy was totally_ that _guy. I could see it too, with him all ripped as a body builder under those stained clothes of his. Dark blondish hair, and that constant five o'clock shadow. Clancy, even after he'd just shaved, probably looked like he could use another one.

It was his eyes that were the killer though. Dark green and annoyed and soul-piercing. He had the kind of eyes that could look at you so many ways, but the results always went one of three ways.

First, you'd feel the uncontrollable need to stab the ever-loving crap out of him. Repeatedly. Preferably with multiple knives. Second, you'd want to dig a hole in the ground, bury yourself in it, only to never return again. Outright disappearing would probably be even better.

Most importantly though was the one that melted panties. The one that made you feel all woman, while he was all man. The one that made you quiver in a delightful fear of what he was going to make you do. Because he _could_ make you do anything he wanted you to.

That was the one that scared the bejeebus out of me.

No man should ever have that sort of power over a woman. Of course, I realized too late where my thoughts had led. Thankfully Clancy didn't notice that my skin was a little flushed, and my breathing had picked up. I totally was _not _crushing on Clancy. Nope, not at all.

"Well," I said, and then tried to make my voice sound a lot less please-fuck-me-now. "I'm gonna leave you to it." I stood up and pulled my pole out of the water, beginning to gather my things. Clancy chuckled to my left as I was slipping my shoes on. "What?"

He looked like he was trying very hard not to crack up as he wiggled a finger at my backside. "You've got a dead fish stuck to your ass."

"What? Where?" I twisted and turned, looking over my shoulder for the poor thing. I realized, belatedly, I'd stuck my ass right in Clancy's face. I had jean shorts on, but they were pretty short.

It was also the same time I found the minnows. So as I flicked it off and tried to move my backside away from Clancy's scruffy face, I also flicked the poor squished tiny fish into his lap. I turned seven different shades of red, but Clancy just chuckled, picked it up, and tossed it into the water.

Whatever. I'd just pretty much aroused myself thinking about Clancy, and he didn't even seem to notice my half naked ass was at lick-me-here level. He was not human. I had a great ass. I checked again to make sure.

I stomped back up the deck, half dragging my fishing tackle behind me, without another word to Clancy. He didn't bother to say anything either, so I could hardly feel bad about my rudeness. He seemed to bring it out of me.

I trudged back into the house just after dark. Gran had put super in the oven and left a note for me. I hadn't realized I'd been gone that long, but she'd already gone back to bed. I tried not to worry too much about her, but I couldn't help it.

Gran was old, and doing work in the garden took a lot out of her, but I couldn't help but think maybe she was sick or something. She seemed awfully tired of late. I silently promised to make her an appointment with the doctor, just to be on the safe side.

I went to bed pretty early myself, and slept in the next morning. I was surprised Gran had let me. She hadn't let me get away with sleeping past nine am since I was a teenager. But I think I needed it. I woke up refreshed, with lots of spring in my step.

Most of the day I spent cleaning while Gran went into town to meet with her friends for a bridge game. Or thirty, more likely. She was gone all day, not coming home until after Amelia had showed up to pick me up for our night out.

I came downstairs, dressed casually sexy in a pair of black skinny jeans and a glittery halter, cut low enough to tease. The purple stiletto's were the fun part, and made me feel long-legged and sexy.

"You should totally come with us, Gran," Amelia was saying, and I rolled my eyes. Leave it to her to try to talk my grandmother into going to a strip club. "Get your freak on?"

I walked in as Amelia did a weird dance while singing "bow-chicka-wow-wow."

"Stop it, woman," I fussed, laughing.

Amelia laughed. "Tara's not coming." I frowned, so she explained.

"She wanted to, but she said, and I quote: 'Morning sickness,'" and then Amelia started making retching noise sound effects, "'are not as specific,'" more of the gagging, "'as the title actually implies,'" more sound effects. By this time Gran and I were both chuckling. "'Gotta go.' Barf, barf, barf. I swear, I'm never getting pregnant."

"You say that now, darlin'," Gran said, shaking her head, "but one of these days you'll want nothing more."

Amelia stuck a finger down her throat, gagging again. I could already tell it was going to be one of those nights. "Come on, Meals, let's get out of Gran's hair."

Gran gave me a wink, and kissed my cheek on the way out the door. "You gals have fun," she said and then waved to us both.

The car was abuzz with excited chatter as Amelia and I made our way to Monroe. It seemed both of us were eager to ogle half-naked men. Nothing wrong with that. It was one of the things I knew I'd instantly be good at.

Since Tara wasn't tagging along, Amelia was designated driver. She paid both our covers since I'd be paying for booze, though I didn't plan to have too many. Lord knows I got a little handsy after too many drinks. I didn't want to be barred from the place if I got over excited.

We walked in after waiting in the too-long line. Crowds of jabbering women of all sorts filled the surprisingly open space. There was one main stage, but three smaller ones were also scattered around the edges. It also smelled strangely like baby powder, or maybe it was baby oil. I couldn't quite decide which.

Amelia went to find us a seat as close to one of those stages as possible, as I went in search of the bar. There weren't any naked men yet, but there were plenty of shirtless men wearing leather pants. I smiled to myself, enjoying the view.

But then my eyes locked on the third bar and the – HOLYSHIT – shirtless guy tending behind the counter. I sauntered up, smiling like a devil, and swishing my hips suggestively, despite the fact he hadn't noticed me yet.

He would. He would so very soon.

I leaned one elbow against the edge of the bar, and propped the other on my cocked hip. I waited, and then he turned. "Well, well, well, look who we have here?"

**A/N: Yes, I know. Evil. But, if you didn't notice, I've officially taken my stories off hold. Not gonna lie and promise specific days for updates, but they should be a lot more often than once a month, or every two months. **

**I'd love to read your thoughts, if you want to leave a comment. Thanks in advance. I know I don't deserve them, but I do love and appreciate them.**

**KISSES!**


	6. There's No Grenadine in My Vodka

**A/N: I loved every comment left for the last chapter. You are all so wonderful. I honestly don't have the words for how much I love each and every one of you. This was supposed to go up yesterday but I fell asleep and forgot. So sorry.**

**Special thanks to: EtheHunter for her fresh eyes and love of all things leather. I crush on her.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Charlaine Harris makes the dollars and cents, yo.**

**Previously...**

_We walked in after waiting in the too-long line. Crowds of jabbering women of all kinds filled the surprisingly open space. There was one main stage, but three smaller ones were also scattered around the edges. It also smelled strangely like baby powder, or maybe it was baby oil. I couldn't quite decide which._

_Amelia went to find us a seat as close to one of those stages as possible, as I went in search of the bar. There weren't any naked men yet, but there were plenty of shirtless men wearing leather pants. I smiled to myself, enjoying the view._

_But then my eyes locked on the third bar and the – HOLYSHIT... shirtless guy tending behind the counter. I sauntered up, smiling like a devil, and swishing my hips suggestively, despite the fact he hadn't noticed me yet._

_He would. He would so very soon._

_I leaned one elbow against the edge of the bar, and propped the other on my cocked hip. I waited, and then he turned. "Well, well, well, look who we have here?"_

**SPOV**

Clancy looked as angry as a rhino. Actually, he looked equal parts mortified and if-you-say-one-fucking-word-I-will-kill-you-with-my-bare-hands-and-enjoy-it. Rather comical, actually.

So, of course, I said, "How much for a lap dance, big boy?"

He growled, typical, because he was a Neanderthal. "Shut up, little girl."

"I'm no little girl, as you can very well see," I said hotly and pointed to my cleavage. I was so tired of him not noticing I had tits. His eyes were drawn there, but only briefly before he sneered at me again. If looks could kill. "Don't be such a bulldog."

"What the fuck do you want?" he snarled. I was waiting for him to foam at the mouth.

"Wow, you're so sweet," I said obnoxiously. "I didn't know your customer service skills were so exceptional."

"I don't get paid to be nice. I get paid to wear these pants and make drinks. Now, what do you want?" If possible, he sounded angrier. I think a little steam came out of his ears.

"And wear those pants, you do. Rather well, to tell the truth. Gran would love to see you cleaning her gutters wearing those. Mmmmhmmm," I purred.

I was pushing him, probably. Okay, I was definitely pushing him, but I couldn't help myself. He brought the nasty out in me. And then some.

In my defense though, the pants were leather. And tight. And black. Did I mention tight? Clancy wasn't just wearing the pants, he made them look like no one else should ever be allowed to wear them. As a bonus, he was bare-chested.

I've said before that Clancy's ripped, but that doesn't seem an adequate enough word. Clancy's body is... _man_. Wide shoulders and chest, narrow hips, with those rippling abs, and bulging biceps. He was a damn romance novels wet dream.

I couldn't wait to see the view from the back.

Clancy gave me a look that spoke volumes. I think he wanted to rip my head from the rest of my body. And then maybe stomp on it for good measure. In fact, he stepped back up to the counter and put his face right in mine. He was opening his mouth to speak when a voice sounded from behind me.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Martinez?" I knew that voice.

"Martinez?" I asked, surprised. "You don't look Hispanic."

"I'm not," Clancy said, and nothing else. Always sharing, that one. "No problem here," he added to the familiar stranger behind me.

"Yeah," I agreed and gave Clancy a wink. "Mr. Martinez here was just about to fix me a drink. Something fruity? Maybe with an umbrella?"

Clancy stalked off and I turned to get a look at the owner of the familiar voice behind me. He looked as surprised as I did when we locked gazes. "Sookie, it's so good to see you."

"Is it really?" I asked, probably more than a tad bitchy. "I kind of find that hard to believe, Eric. Or is it Mr. Northman?" Yeah, I was totally being bitchy. Sue me. I was a little burned that he hadn't bothered to call.

"Ah," Eric hummed and gave me a look that said "don't be like that." But then he smiled. "I've been meaning to call you."

"Have you?" I turned to face him fully, picking up the drink Clancy had just set on the bar beside my elbow.

"Yes, I've just been busy with the grand opening and all. Things have been hectic. I'm sure you can understand."

"Oh," I said dumbly and straightened up a bit. That explained a lot. "I didn't know you owned this place. Wow." Well, that made me feel bad about being mad at him. But really, how long did it take to dial seven numbers? And now I was just being a girl. I sighed.

I took a long tug off the straw floating in my drink. And... just about coughed out my stomach. Eric patted me on the back. "You okay?"

I nodded, still unable to talk since my throat as well as the rest of my innards were on fire. "What the hell kind of drink is this, Clancy?" I croaked.

Oh, he was so dead. Clancy looked like he was so damn proud of himself. He smiled, but it wasn't really a smile. It was evil, pure evil. "Vodka," he said simply.

"Well, why is it red?" I sniffed the drink. Smelled like straight vodka. Gross.

"Grenadine," evil, nasty, devil Clancy said. "Problem with your drink? Too much for you?"

"No," I lied and took a long, slow sip. Mostly, I was trying to fake him out, drinking as little as possible while looking like I was taking big huge gulps. My eyes watered with the burn, but I kept sipping, staring at Clancy, and his annoyed face.

Take that, fucker.

I'd vomit the fireballs out later. And then cough smoke for hours.

Clancy turned and stomped to the other end of the bar, slinging more drinks for the women waiting to stare at him. The back view was very, _very _nice. I ogled for a second and set my drink on the bar, fingering the rim, before turning back to Eric. I tried desperately not to lose my cherry vodka on his shoes.

"I take it you two know each other," Eric said with a smile.

"Not really. He's a neighbor, kind of. Helps my Gran with things she can't do herself," I explained, Clancy forgotten. Eric looked good. I'd forgotten how damn sexy he was. "So, you've got your hand in lots of cookie jars. I didn't know you owned this place."

"Well, it's Pam's investment actually," he said and took my elbow, steering me gently through the crowd. "But she's my partner," he shrugged. "I'm glad you came," he added softly.

I was too. Especially now. Maybe I was still a little sore about Eric not calling, but he had a good enough excuse for me to forgive him. And he looked damn sexy in those designer jeans and that snug fitting silk shirt. Eric wasn't too shabby in the muscle department either.

My ears felt like they were redder than Mars and hotter than Mercury, but I took another slow sip of the toxic drink. Gah! So strong. I was going to be paying for it later, I knew it.

"I should probably find Amelia. Let her know where I am," I told Eric as he guided me to sit at a corner table in the back.

It was set off from the rest of the tables, but it gave me a straight-line view of the main stage, while still allowing me to see all the others as well. Oh, I could get used to this.

"I think your friend is otherwise engaged," Eric said, nodding across the room as he sat down next to me. Even as I looked to where he was gesturing, I couldn't help but notice as his arm snaked around my shoulders.

"She works fast," I commented. Amelia and Pam were standing intimately close in the corner of the room, almost blanketed in shadows.

"Pam or Amelia?" Eric questioned, smirking.

I chuckled. "They both work fast."

"As do I," he said before sweeping down to press his lips against mine. It wasn't unwelcome, but it was a surprise. Eric kept it PG though, limiting it to his lips caressing mine before he pulled back. "I've missed you," he whispered.

"Sure you did," I teased. "So much that you couldn't even take twenty seconds to give me a ring. Or hell, five to drop me a text." I was mostly kidding, but there was a part of me that wasn't. "Don't expect me to forgive and forget so quickly."

"Sookie, Sookie, Sookie," Eric shook his head. "I wanted to do so much more that call you. And had I called on you, it would have taken a lot more than twenty seconds."

"Oh," I gulped, suddenly flustered by the implications of what he was getting at. The flirt in me couldn't resist though. "And what would that be?" I taunted, desire curling my lips and making my eyelashes flutter.

"Let me take you home, and I'll show you," he growled, scooting closer and pulling me to his side.

My breath caught, but I still put a palm to his chest, holding him back a little. "Not so fast. I'm not that drunk... yet," I added at the end, because my head was feeling a little warm and fuzzy from the vodka. "I'm not saying you can't take me home. But I did pay for a show," I smiled and gestured to all the half dressed men walking around. "I think I deserve to get my money's worth."

Eric chuckled. "Very well. But, anytime you're ready, just say the word." His eyes roamed my body, without hesitation or shame. My skin heated under his gaze. "You look good enough to eat."

Oh, yes, please eat me. I might have whimpered. But I was determined to watch glistening bodies of the male persuasion gyrate and hip-pump for at least an hour. Maybe just thirty minutes, I thought as I looked at Eric when he licked his lips.

Fuck, I was so damn easy. I was ready to jump his bones right there. I had crappy will power, and even worse control over my desire for him. Eric was a weak spot for me already, it seemed. Funny, I'd never thought I had one of those.

Eric and I sat together, enjoying the show through a few dances and a few different songs. His hands toyed with mine, occasionally brushing against my hip or thigh, and I tried not to squirm. He looked entertained, but not really affected by the sexy men in thongs and tiny manties. His eyes stayed mostly on me, gauging my reaction, ogling my cleavage, and making me feel outright nervous.

I mean, I'd always thought watching men strip would be more entertaining, funny maybe, more than anything else. I'd never, ever suspected I'd be turned on by it, but I was. Extremely. More likely, though, it was Eric that was affecting me so drastically.

Though his hands never went anywhere inappropriate, they were always touching me. Coercing, caressing, tickling, teasing. My word, but the man was driving me insane.

Amelia and Pam joined us for a little while, before disappearing once again. Of course Amelia confirmed I'd have a ride home if she just so happened to be too busy later. Eric was gracious enough to offer, and that gave me butterflies in my tummy. I had a feeling Amelia was going to make sure she was "too busy" later.

More drinks were served, none of which were nearly as strong as the first. I had quite the buzz going on, and was more than a little handsy with Eric. I couldn't stop touching him.

Feeling rather brave with my inhibitions nearly non-existent, I climbed over on his lap and straddled him. Eric hardly blinked, welcoming me by gripping my hips with both hands.

I leaned towards him, bypassing his mouth and putting my lips against his ear. "Let's get outta here," I whispered.

His hands held me tighter to him as he leaned his head back and caught my bottom lip between his teeth. I'm pretty sure I moaned aloud. "Let's," he agreed and stood, with me still attached to him like a spider monkey.

I giggled, more than a little drunk, and slid my feet to the floor.

"Johnny," Eric shouted, before tossing a set of keys at a shirtless man. "Lock up, will you?"

Shirtless Johnny gave a nod after catching the keys and we were out the door. Eric had to help me walk, but only a little. I could mostly walk, but the heels on the gravel parking lot were a little tricky.

Then we were at the car, and I was up against it as Eric's lips and tongue lavished my neck. "Oh, my," I moaned, shifting to wrap my legs around him.

His hands roamed, a lot more freely than they had while we were indoors. On my ass, sliding along the curvy part and then down, down, down, until his fingers pressed against me. "Oh, oh, yes, Eric." There. More.

Damn jeans, always in the way. "Your place or mine, lover?" Eric asked.

"Where do you live?" I asked, completely out of breath.

"Shreveport," he half growled.

"Mine's closer," I offered. Gran would be there, but she'd also be asleep. And I was very good at being quiet. Very good.

Eric groaned as I shifted my hips, pressing them against the hardness I felt behind his pants. "Your house it is," he agreed and set me on my feet.

I took a minute to right my clothes. Eric hadn't exposed my breasts, exactly, but I wasn't really decent either.

Clancy was standing across the parking lot. I flushed and waved. He looked angry, so I stuck my tongue out at him, and moved to get in the car. I heard an engine roar and turned just in time to see Clancy's mammoth motorcycle spit gravel as he spun tires and took off.

Whatever. Wasn't my problem if he was still pissed about the vodka thing. I clicked my seat belt just as Eric pulled out onto the main road.

Either I was really drunk, or Eric drove like a complete maniac. I tried not to focus on anything outside the window because they were simply moving too fast for me to track. Instead, I kept throwing hungry glances at Eric, relishing in the equally hungry looks he returned.

Eric shut off the headlights, as I'd instructed, just before we pulled into the driveway. Then we sneaked in the front door, me giving the signal after I'd confirmed Gran was in bed. A few "shh's" and squeaky stairs later, and I was closing the bedroom door behind me.

I felt a little like a rebel teenager, sneaking her boyfriend in past curfew. And I suppose that's exactly what I'd done, despite the fact Gran had given me permission to have people over. 'If, and only if, I was smart and cautious about it.' I felt a little naughty about it all the same.

But then Eric's hands and mouth were on me, clothes were removed, skin exposed, and God, his mouth. Eric's chest was smooth and hairless. So taut and beautiful, I ran my fingers over and down, catching his eye when I dropped my hand to his zipper and dragged it down.

"Ohfuck," I groaned when I found him long, hard and ready against my palm. I gripped him firmly, enjoying as his eyes shut in pleasure.

Eric gave me a look, all fire and hunger and promise, and I shivered in delight when he gripped my shoulders and half tossed me on my bed. I giggled a little as I bounced then fussed at him. "Shh, my Gran's asleep downstairs."

Eric smirked. "I'm going to have to remind you of that in a few minutes," he said and then dropped his pants.

I swallowed, and then swallowed again. Good lord. He was magnificent. When he gripped himself and stroked as he started stalking toward my position on the bed, my stomach turned. No, oh God, no.

I tried looking at his face, but it had already morphed and blurred. Maybe it was because I'd been drinking, maybe not, but what should have been something erotic and sexy had transformed into something I'd long buried in the deepest corners of my mind.

"Not now. Oh God," I groaned aloud.

Eric continued forward, clueless to my inner battle, coming to kneel on the bed, hard and ready still gripped in his large hand. I felt the bile crawl up my throat.

"You gotta go," I blurted as I scooted off the bed, as far away from him as I could get. "I'm sorry, but you gotta go." He couldn't know. He just couldn't, and I felt so bad because it wasn't his fault. The fault was my own.

"What's going on?" Eric asked, finally looking concerned.

I grabbed his pants, tossing them at him as I headed toward the bathroom. "I'm going to be sick. You should go. I'm sorry. I'll call you later, but you gotta go now."

I closed the door behind me, shutting him out completely. I felt so horrible, so damn awful, but I couldn't help my reaction. I'd only thought I was better. I was so wrong. I covered my face with my hands, muffling my cries as I listened to Eric.

He muttered a few words quietly, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. Then the door to my bedroom squeaked open and clicked shut. I crept out of the bathroom then and walked to the window, watching until I saw him get it his car and drive away.

My face was still wet with tears, but I grabbed an oversized shirt from my dresser and left the house, taking off as fast as my feet would carry me as soon as I hit the trees.

**A/N: Yeah, so Sookie has problems. Obviously. I hope you'll be sticking with me, and will take the time to leave me a comment below. I am really nervous about this one, and I'm not sure how you all will take it. So, I'm anxiously awaiting your thoughts.**

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**KISSES!**


	7. She Swims With the Snakes

**A/N: Thanks to those of you that took the time to review. I'm glad you're sticking this out with me. Some of you were a little confused by the last chapter. I hope this one clears things up a bit.**

**Special thanks to: EtheHunter and her fresh eyes and awesome suggestions. She's more than deserve. Also, she's now a published author. WOW! Check out her profile for details on how to buy her book.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, cuz I'm not Charlaine Harris.**

**Previously...**

"_You gotta go," I blurted as I scooted off the bed, as far away from him as I could get. "I'm sorry, but you gotta go." He couldn't know. He just couldn't, and I felt so bad because it wasn't his fault. The fault was my own._

"_What's going on?" Eric asked, finally looking concerned._

_I grabbed his pants, tossing them at him as I headed toward the bathroom. "I'm going to be sick. You should go. I'm sorry. I'll call you later, but you gotta go now."_

_I closed the door behind me, shutting him out completely. I felt so horrible, so damn awful, but I couldn't help my reaction. I'd only thought I was better. I was so wrong. I covered my face with my hands, muffling my cries as I listened to Eric._

_He muttered a few words quietly, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. Then the door to my bedroom squeaked open and clicked shut. I crept out of the bathroom then and walked to the window, watching until I saw him get it his car and drive away._

_My face was still wet with tears, but I grabbed an oversized shirt from my dresser and left the house, taking off as fast as my feet would carry me as soon as I hit the trees. _

**SPOV**

I ran and ran and ran some more, not stopping until I'd reached the end of the deck that extended over my fishing lake. It had also been, at certain times in my life, a secluded retreat where I could gather my thoughts.

Despite the fact I'd grabbed them as I ran out the door, I hadn't taken the time to put on my rubber boots. I dropped them to the deck, ignoring the slight sting in my feet as the wood rattled beneath them.

I felt like such a fool, such a total and complete idiot. I'd thought things were better, but I'd been so wrong. I hadn't thought of _him_ in years, but I could feel the scars just as fresh and painful as they'd been in the beginning.

"So stupid," I sniffled into the moonlit night, angrily wiping at the tears as they fell down my face.

Why couldn't I move passed it like I wanted to? Why did it have to come back now? Why with Eric? God, he must think I'm some sort of nut. I choked on a sob as I finally allowed myself to feel it all.

The pain and torment, the sick, gut-churning feeling that came with the memory of my late uncle; the weak, shriveling sensation that accompanied that. I hated it, and I hated how it always came back to haunt me, control me in some way.

It was so minor, I always thought. So many people had much more traumatic experiences, and they'd dealt with them with a strength I couldn't seem to find in myself. Why was I weaker than everyone else? Why couldn't I let the past stay where it was? It wasn't like I was raped. Technically.

I just hated it. I hated it all. The series of reactions and feelings I went through that never seemed to change. The nausea, the fear that felt like it shook me to my bones, the utter helplessness and finally the anger.

Though the anger was always my favorite part; it signaled it was almost over. Besides, anger I could deal with.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, stinging slightly when I felt them drip on my cut feet. I didn't want to know what they looked like so I kept my eyes unfocused, gazing out into the distance.

I stared at the moon, and the lake, and the moon as it reflected on the lake, feeling the rage heat my skin and warm my cheeks. The wind blew in with a gust as I let it all go. The scream that came from my mouth was half cry, half growl.

It didn't matter there. No one was ever out there to hear me. So I screamed, and expelled the last of every fear, every insecurity, all my fury in one long burst.

When I'd finished, when I could scream no more, I took a deep cleansing breath. No matter how many times I'd rationalized it, I always felt a little filthy.

It was one of the reasons I came to the lake. I'd cleansed my soul, but I still needed to wash it all away from my skin.

When I took off out of the house, I'd only grabbed the shirt, my panties and boots, which were on the deck beside my feet. I wiped the last of my tears away and gripped the hem of my shirt, ripped it over my head and then tossed it on top of the boots.

The air was still a little cool in the evenings, so I knew the water would be too. But I didn't care. I stepped forward and prepared to dive.

"What are you doing, woman?" A booming voice sounded in the silent night, directly behind me.

I didn't manage to complete the graceful dive I'd planned. Instead, I tumbled face first into the cool, placid water, a scream drowning on my lips.

I surfaced with a tiny shiver from the shock of the water, gasping for breath. "Cheese and rice, Clancy! Do you have to scare the shit out of me all the time? What the hell are you doing out here? Other than giving me a heart attack."

I sniffled and wiped at my eyes, hoping they weren't too puffy.

"Why the hell are you in that water? There are snakes in that water," Clancy hollered, ignoring my question as he walked closer.

God, I hoped he couldn't tell I'd been crying. I swallowed hard as I kept myself afloat, while still making sure I was concealed in the water. I was naked, for goodness sake, and he was hounding me about snakes!

"Don't tell me you're scared of snakes, Clancy. Manly man that you are."

He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. I knew a defensive pose when I saw one; it made me smirk a little. "I'm not scared of snakes. Don't mean I'm gonna go swimming with them either. Especially in the dark. Get out of the water, you crazy girl."

He extended a hand and leaned out over the edge. No freaking way. I swam out further, dipping under water to create more of a distance faster.

I pushed the hair out of my face as I surfaced. "It's a little cool for the snakes to be out right now," I said, still treading water. Clancy looked like he was ready to strangle me and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Besides, I want to swim for a bit. You could join me."

I hoped he didn't though. I kind of hoped he would leave without asking me anything. He had to have been close enough to hear me scream, as loud as I'd been. I just wanted to be left alone, despite the fact that he'd managed to distract me from my depressing thoughts.

"You're an idiot," Clancy grumbled. "And you're drunk. Get out of the water before you make yourself sick."

It was my turn to snort. I swam in small circles, enjoying the feel of the cool water washing away things I'd rather avoid. "I'm not that drunk," I lied. "And I'm not getting out until you leave. My clothes are on the deck," I said, in case he hadn't noticed.

Clancy looked down at my pile. Well, my shirt and boots anyway. Then he ran a hand through his hair, which was a little wild. "The fuck are you doing skinny dipping at two in the morning, crazy girl?" he muttered, though it seemed it was mostly to himself.

I shrugged, not going to answer anyway. He could think I was crazy all he wanted. Besides, I kind of was. I swam in lazy circles, the buzz in my head making me almost numb to the cold. "Why are you out here, Clancy?" I asked, watching the ripples from my fingers as they trailed across the water.

"Just had to wind down after work," he said with a shrug. He'd changed clothes, unfortunately, but the gym shorts and wife-beater were a good look for him too. "I thought I heard someone scream. Did you scream? What happened?"

Well, shit. "Nothing. I saw a spider," I lied and began swimming back toward the deck. Obviously he wasn't going to leave, so it was probably best that I get back home. Especially since he'd started in on the questions.

He huffed, not looking like he believed me for a second. "Swims with the snakes, but screams like she's being murdered over a spider. I doubt that," he cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting for a different answer I suspected.

"It was on my leg. It just startled me is all," I defended. His eyebrow only rose further, damn near disappearing under his shag of hair. "Whatever. Believe what you want to. I'm getting out," I snapped. "Turn around unless you want an eye full."

I grabbed ahold of the deck, lifting myself up and onto it. Clancy spun around so fast it was comical. I chuckled.

"I'm decent," I said once I had on my shirt. I eyed my boots, and then my feet as I sat on the cool deck.

I was suddenly so tired. My feet ached, covered in tiny scrapes and scratches. No doubt there'd be a few bruises in the morning, too. I wrapped my arms around my knees, pulling them tightly to my chest and then laying my head down on top of them.

"Cold?" Clancy asked from over my shoulder. I heard his heavy steps as he walked over to stand beside me. I nodded, but didn't lift my head, afraid he'd see I was once again fighting back tears. "Why are you crying?"

Stupid. "I'm not," I whispered, keeping my eyes closed. When I opened them for a second, the world spun, so I kept them shut.

"Bullshit. What did that bastard do to you?"

I snorted, ignoring the fact he was sitting down next to me. The heat from his body felt wonderful though, and I'm pretty sure I leaned a little closer. "What do you care?"

Clancy's voice vibrated the deck, low and fierce. "Did he hurt you? Sookie, I swear to God –"

"He didn't do anything to me," I defended quickly, finally noticing the veins popping in Clancy's forehead. "Why would you even think that?" I asked, curious.

Clancy looked away, though it was obvious in the set of his jaw he didn't much care for Eric. I wondered why. I also wondered why Clancy seemed to be so bothered by the fact he might've hurt me. Then I wondered why that gave me flutters in my belly.

"I just know his type," Clancy finally gritted out.

"His type? What type is that? Man? Most of you're the same," I said, half joking.

Clancy's expression went from fierce to something I didn't even know how to define. It was serious and furious and so severe, I drew back an inch and wished I could swallow my words.

"All men are_ not_ the same, little girl. Not even close," he growled.

I nodded, not knowing what else to say, because I knew it was the truth. I knew not all men were the same, but sometimes I couldn't help but to connect them all on some level.

It was silent for a moment, and I thought I might pass out. Probably would have if it weren't for the shivers. I curled up tighter around my legs, letting my eyes roam out into the starlit sky.

"Just be careful with him, is all I'm saying," Clancy said in a low voice. I tilted my head to look at him, but he was staring off somewhere in the distance, his profile highlighted by the moon.

"Fair enough," I chattered. Clancy's head turned my direction, and I quickly looked away.

"You're cold. Let's get you home," he grunted as he stood, extending a hand to help me. I winced when I was upright, and of course he noticed. "What happened to your feet?"

I shrugged. "I forgot to put my shoes on." My voice was quiet and slurred and my legs felt wobbly. I hoped I made it home.

I frowned at the swaying deck below me and took a careful step forward. Then the whole world tilted, and I was in Clancy's arms. "Forgot, my ass," he grumbled, or at least I think he did. He was so warm. "You didn't drink that whole drink, did you?"

I steadied myself as he held onto me and tried to take a step back. He caught me again. "And then some," I murmured.

"Damn you, stupid girl," he muttered and swooped down to heft me over his shoulder. I giggled as I bounced, my wet hair swinging and sticking to my face.

The fact that I was ass over elbows over Clancy's shoulder in nothing but a t-shirt and panties hardly seemed to matter at the time. Then I think I might have groped his ass a little, but I'm not sure. Something about being upside down screws with your equilibrium, especially when you're shit-faced, which is probably why I passed out.

I woke up warm and cozy with the sun in my eyes. I squinted against the light, rolling around in the most comfortable sheets known to man. The room was unfamiliar, but, _my God_, the sheets were divine. I snuggled in closer, wrapping them tighter around me before reality settled in and I bolted upright.

"Shit," I whispered, remembering most of what had happened the night before, though it was a bit hazy. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

I looked around, sighing in relief when I realized Clancy wasn't in the bed with me. Boy, would that have been a mistake. I threw the heavenly sheets back and slung my feet over the edge of the bed, wincing as my sores hit the carpet.

As I went to check my feet, I was surprised to see a flannel shirt draped in a haphazard way over me. Seeing my oversized t-shirt, stained with dirt and little specks of blood, kept me from having a panic attack. I didn't know if I could handle knowing Clancy had undressed and then redressed me.

Then I saw my feet, and I actually smiled when I noticed he had cleaned them. My left foot even had a bandage on it. How... sweet.

I wanted to be nosy and snoop, but I restrained myself and went in search of my caretaker.

I'd never seen the inside of his house before, but from what I could tell as I walked down the narrow hall, it was well-maintained. Only one bedroom from what I could see, but it was as tidy as the rest of the house. With the exception of a few tools and clothes lying around, there wasn't much out of place.

Or much decorating it for that matter.

I frowned as I entered the living area, not so much as a picture on the wall. I don't know what I'd been expecting. A huge dump, full of beer cans, pictures of half-naked chicks sprawled across motorcycles maybe? Anything but the perfect, if yet scarcely, furnished home.

Clancy was on the couch, his feet dangling over the end. The TV was on, so of course, I thought he was awake.

"Nice place you've got here," I called, only to squeak back when he vaulted off the couch like something had scared the shit out of him. Oh, it was probably me. "Sorry. Sorry," I whispered, holding my hands over my mouth so I wouldn't laugh. "I thought you were up."

Clancy's hair was standing up every which way with random pieces plastered flat to the side of his head. His eyes were wide and wild, if a bit unfocused. And his face was creased along his cheek and jaw in the same pattern etched on the couch.

It was completely adorable, but also so very funny. I didn't really fare well with holding in my giggles. They bubbled up and out of my mouth in short hiccups that made Clancy glare harder.

He snatched his shirt from the back of the couch, yanking it on as I tried to calm myself. I didn't stare, exactly, but I didn't exactly _not_ stare. Clancy had the kind of skin – smooth and tone and tan – that just made you look, so it wasn't really _my_ fault.

It was just part of human nature.

I finally settled down to where I could breathe again when I realized my hair probably looked a thousand times worse than his. I reached up to finger-comb it, frowning when I hit a huge tangle. Yuck.

Clancy walked passed me on his way to the kitchen, and I reached out to stop him with a hand on his forearm. He stared at it for a moment, as if maybe he was thinking about flicking it away, before lifting his eyes to mine.

"Thank you," I said seriously. "For last night. For taking care of me. You didn't have to, so, thank you."

He gave me a penetrating stare that had me fidgeting. I let go of his arm, letting my hand fall to my side. His gaze softened a bit, and then hardened to the familiar mask of indifference I was so used to seeing on him.

"Don't think I did it for you," he said stiffly. "Your Gran would've had my hide if I'd left you passed out drunk on her porch."

I shrugged, figuring I'd seen the last of nice Clancy, even though I didn't technically remember it. "All the same. You didn't have to wash and bandage my feet or let me sleep in your bed," I shrugged again and turned my back to him. "I won't forget that. So, thanks."

I heard his feet shuffle on the floor, and he mumbled something under his breath that I couldn't quite understand before sighing heavily. "Want some coffee?" he grumbled.

I smiled though he couldn't see it, and shook my head. "No. I should go home." I grabbed my boots, which were sitting by the front door and slipped them on carefully. Then I turned to smile at Clancy one last time. "Thanks again. I'll see ya."

He nodded slightly, opened his mouth as if to say something and closed it again. "Yep," he grunted finally and waved before heading back toward the kitchen.

I let myself out and walked back through the woods, hoping for all I was worth, my Gran wasn't waiting on the porch for me when I made it home.

Of course I'm not that lucky.

**A/N: I hope that this chapter helped to clarify a few things. I know this is a sensitive subject, and I promise to do my best to handle it with the utmost care and sensitivity. **

**Also, Jan of Arc and Blakes Boogie have this fantastic idea to do a Secret Santa fic exchange. It's not a contest, but a story exchange for anyone who wants to participate. I think it's a fantastic idea, and if you want more details please check out their profile.**

**It's Sookie's Secret Santa, and all you have to do is type that in your search engine. It's the only one, and I can't think of anyone else whose ever done something like this. It's going to be a blast so go check out their profile.**

**Please feel free to leave your thoughts by pressing the button below. I do love hearing from you!**

**KISSES!**


	8. You're Gonna Love My Dumplins

**A/N: Thanks to those of you who took the time to review the last chapter. **

**Special thanks: EtheHunter beta'd. She's amazing!**

**Disclaimer: CH owns them not me.**

**Previously...**

_I shrugged, figuring I'd seen the last of nice Clancy, even though I didn't technically remember it. "All the same. You didn't have to wash and bandage my feet or let me sleep in your bed," I shrugged again and turned my back to him. "I won't forget that. So, thanks."_

_I heard his feet shuffle on the floor, and he mumbled something under his breath that I couldn't quite understand before sighing heavily. "Want some coffee?" he grumbled._

_I smiled though he couldn't see it, and shook my head. "No. I should go home." I grabbed my boots, which were sitting by the front door and slipped them on carefully. Then I turned to smile at Clancy one last time. "Thanks again. I'll see ya."_

_He nodded slightly, opened his mouth as if to say something and closed it again. "Yep," he grunted finally and waved before heading back toward the kitchen._

_I let myself out and walked back through the woods, hoping for all I was worth, my Gran wasn't waiting on the porch for me when I made it home._

_Of course I'm not that lucky._

**SPOV**

"Come on, Stan, you know you want to," I pleaded, putting on my very best little girl pout. Puppy dog, blinky eyes, and all. "Please."

"I don't think it's a good idea." Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding his glasses up to his forehead. I stepped closer, coming around the side of his desk to stand at beside his chair.

"Why not?" I asked, feeling like I'd had too many similar conversations the past couple days. "Amelia's coming. Tara and J.B. Even my neighbor, Clancy, is coming for crying out loud." And that had been a fun conversation. "What's the big deal?"

"You said you invited Mr. Northman?"

That conversation had been even better. I'd called him Monday, after my little panic attack, and explained I'd had too much to drink and too little to eat, and that I hated I'd gotten sick on him like that.

Yes, I was lying, but I wasn't going to tell him the truth. I wasn't ever telling anyone that. Eric was a little quiet, but mostly very understanding, and I appreciated that he didn't push me too much about it.

Then I'd invited him over for Gran's special chicken and dumplings recipe the coming Saturday to make up for it, but Eric had said it was inventory weekend so he wouldn't be able to make it. I was a little disappointed, but felt much better when he invited me to dinner at his place on Sunday. Eric was going to cook for me. I might've been in love already.

I looked at Stan and tapped a foot. "Yes, but he's not coming. He has to work. It'll just be friends and family. You know Jason, my brother, he'll be there."

"We're not exactly bosom buddies, Sookie." Stan gave me a crooked look as if I didn't know how much they differed.

Stan and Jason were like the jock, and the little guy in glasses that was always picked on by the jock. Maybe the jock needed tutoring, as the case often was with my brother, and Stan would've been the brainiac. Not the brightest bulb in the room, Jason.

I shrugged. "You know Jason's not like that. Besides, it's chicken and dumplings. Who in their right mind can turn that down?" Stan looked to be having a hard time saying no, even if he was putting up a huge fight with me about it. It was all for show.

"They're homemade," I purred. "And we're making a blackberry cobbler for dessert. You've had my blackberry cobbler, Stan. So good." Stan glared and I smiled, victorious. One more pitch, and I'd have him. "She always cooks enough for an army, don't make us waste all that good food."

Such a sucker. Stan hated when things went to waste, even food. "You could always take it to the shelter," he suggested, but he was smiling.

"Stan!" I stomped my foot for good measure.

He chuckled and slid out from behind his desk. "Fine. Fine. What time?"

I clapped and squealed. "About four. You're welcome to bring a date, of course." I rolled my eyes as I recited my Gran's words. She had been very specific in her instructions to me.

She even had me tell Clancy she'd be offended if he didn't bring his "cute buns" over to eat some of her "pie." She said she "owed him so much more than a good meal." My Gran was unintentionally dirty, of course. But I blushed redder than sweet cherry pie as I stood on Clancy's doorstep and quoted Gran's invitation.

Clancy just looked amused, and maybe a little annoyed. He was something I couldn't figure out. Probably never would. If I had wanted to – which I didn't.

Stan cleared his throat and shuffled at a few papers on his desk. "I'm not dating anyone, but thank you."

"Aww, Stan, don't look so... grumpy. Any girl would be lucky to go out with you. You've just got to quit hiding behind your hair and glasses, sexy as they are." I flicked a bit of his hair with my fingers and giggled.

Stan, being Stan, blushed furiously and coughed. "Alright, Sookie. I'll see you tomorrow. Now, get out of here so I can finish up and go home for the day."

"Bye, Stan," I said and walked out, closing his door behind me.

I was already finished for the day, so I gathered up my things and did one last round through the hotel making sure things were tip-top. One of the luggage carts had been left on the third floor, and I took it down on my way out the door.

We were sort of in between as far as business went. It wasn't really as slow as the winter months could get, but we weren't exactly busy either. I hoped that the new owners, Eric and Pam, didn't decide they needed to make cuts on payroll by firing employees; we already worked with a limited enough staff.

The workers we did have were very good, and I didn't want to lose them because the owners wanted to be tight with their money in places they shouldn't be. We all worked together as a team to make sure we were cost efficient, hopefully preventing that from even being an issue.

I stopped by the grocery store on my way home, picking up the supplies we still needed for dinner the next day. Most of it was already at the house, but there were a few little things Gran asked me to get.

I'd been in a pretty good mood the past few days. Considering it had been less than a week since the unfortunate episode, I counted myself lucky and whistled a nameless tune as I walked the aisle's and picked up our last minute ingredients.

Even the sores and bruises on my feet were faded. I hadn't worn heels all week because they were uncomfortable enough as it was. My ballet flats and sandals had served their purpose and my feet had healed almost completely. I'd been limping on Monday. Thank you, Nurse Clancy.

After settling with the cashier and loading the bags in the car, I went home where Gran was waiting on the porch.

"How was work, dear?"

She grabbed for one of the bags in my arms, but I shrugged past her and into the house. "I got it. Work was good. What'd you do today?"

I heard her follow me into the kitchen. "Nothing much. Read a little, boiled the chicken. Meat's in the fridge."

I handed her the okra and collard greens, watching as she walked over to put them in the crisper. "Stan's coming."

Gran clapped her hands together while I sorted through the other bag and began putting things in the cabinets. "Oh, good. So we're up to, how many now? Tara and J.B. –"

"Counting us, it's eight, Gran." I grabbed her empty bag and walked over to store them in the drawer next to the sink.

"I hate that your Eric couldn't make it," Gran said with a frown. "I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"He's hardly my Eric," I chuckled and shook my head. "It's still new. I'm not even sure it'll ever be all that serious, to tell the truth."

"Well, why not?" Gran pulled out a chair and sat at the table. A frown wrinkled her aged face further. "It's about time you find yourself someone to settle down with."

"Gran –"

She held up a hand. "Now, you know I'd never pressure you, dear, but I would like to have me some grand babies one of these days. And Jason... Well, honestly, it's a shock to me he doesn't have children already as much as he likes to frolic."

I snickered and Gran smiled as I sat down across from her. I grabbed an apple and took a big bite. "I want to have kids. Eventually. But I don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment yet."

"What? Kids?" She shook her head and laughed. "No matter how much you read up on it, or learn about it from others, no matter how ready you think you are, you'll never be quite prepared for having a child. Lots of flying by the seat of your pants, calling audibles, and improvising when it comes to kids."

I snorted. "Did you just say 'calling audibles'?"

Gran shrugged. "I raised a quarterback, Sookie. What can I say?"

I laughed and took another bite of my apple. Sometimes, my Gran cracked me up. "While I know I'm not ready for a baby, I was really talking about a committed relationship before. I'm not sure I'm ready for that either."

She gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. "Why not?" It was rhetorical, of course. I was going to answer anyway, but Gran cut me off. "You'll find a man one of these days, one that'll love you despite all your faults, and in spite of all those little Sookie skeletons you hide in your closet, and you'll be ready then."

Gran smiled and reached across the table to pat my hand affectionately. "You just have to be willing to put yourself out there, Sookie. Really put yourself out there. Not half-assed, but wholeheartedly. Then you'll fall and you'll love, and you can take on any challenge that comes your way." She winked. "Kids included."

"I doubt I'll ever be ready for that," I mumbled as Gran walked over to begin dinner. She didn't hear me, or my heart beating ninety miles an hour either. Her words had struck a nerve, and I couldn't shake the fear.

How could you share everything with someone? How could I share my dark secrets? How could someone ever love me if they knew about that? How could I ever trust someone enough to tell them that? I'd never even told my Gran about it.

I shook my head, clearing out those crazy thoughts and focused on helping Gran with dinner. Thinking like that wasn't going to do anything good for my mood. Besides, love was a long way away for me. I still had time. Eric and I weren't even dating, technically.

"Who knows," Gran said as she peeked over her shoulder at me. A little secretive grin curved her lips, "maybe Clancy will be that man for you?"

"Gran," I squeaked and smacked at her arm playfully. She'd been relentless in her teasing since I'd come home with the explanation I'd spent the night at Clancy's house. "I told you it's not like that."

"I'm just saying," she defended, holding up her hands. "He took care of you. A man doesn't do that if there's not goodness in his heart. And you deserve that kind of goodness, baby."

"I love you, Gran," I said and kissed her cheek. "But Clancy and me?" I shook my head. "Not gonna happen."

She laughed and turned back to her task. I could've sworn she muttered something like, "We'll see," under her breath, though.

**A/N: I know I'm late and that this is short, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. **

**Thanks for reading! I love reading your comments if you'd like to take a second to leave one. Thanks so much!**

**KISSES!**


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